


Uninvited

by curi_o



Series: Pain for Jayne [3]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Content: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-21
Updated: 2006-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curi_o/pseuds/curi_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had seemed so simple at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uninvited

**Author's Note:**

> Pain for Jayne table prompt: soap
> 
> _Like anyone would be,  
>  I am flattered by your fascination with me.  
> Like any hot blooded woman,  
> I have simply wanted an object to crave.  
> But you, you're not allowed.  
> You're uninvited—  
> An unfortunate slight._
> 
> _— "Uninvited", Alanis Morissette_

* * *

He smelled Mal. He kept his back to the entrance and continued cleaning his girls. He wasn’t going to turn for anyone but the moonbrain. And she smelled like soap, not old leather.

The smell of old leather had, until very recently, been benign—even vaguely comforting—for Jayne. It was the smell of honest work, of a dusty world with which he was familiar. 

It wasn’t his scent, he knew. Jayne smelled of sweat and sex and the oil he used on his girls—moisture to Mal’s drought.

And she was caught in between. She was like one of them worlds the terra-forming left swinging between lots and lots of rain— _monsoons_ , she had called them—and the dry seasons. 

He couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to live on a world of dry seasons. The grit caked everything, everywhere. It wore on a body’s weapons and made it hard to breathe.

He’d prefer the wet seasons. At least they were honest, didn’t trick you to seeing things weren’t there. They were dangerous and loud, but they had a purpose. They kept things _alive_. And surely a River needed the rains.

It had seemed so simple at first. He’d rushed in, unapologetic as ever, and she’d soaked up his attention. Perfect, it had seemed.

And then she’d started to dry out a bit. She’d held off, responded less enthusiastically to his flirting. He’d thundered at her in confusion until she told him about Mal’s interest. Then he’d retreated to rumble in the distance.

River warned him against fighting with Mal. Mal was less dangerous to the others; they were more loyal to him. A fight would not end well for Jayne.

She promised to end the waiting soon, to choose one path or the other. She’d taken care to spend time equally with him and Mal, “gathering data,” she said. She wouldn’t let him kiss her, but since he hadn’t smelled Mal on her, he figured that was okay: the Cap’n wasn’t touching her either.

He was disgusted with Mal. First there was Saffron, who turned out to be psychotic, but that wasn’t the point. Then, he’d had a perfectly good woman in Inara—a whore, sure, but she loved him—and he’d ruined that, too. Now he had to mess with the one woman with whom Jayne had a shot. 

He would ruin her, too, of course. He wanted to save her so badly; he looked at her like another war for which to volunteer. River’d have to see that; after all, she _was_ a genius reader.

He started at the touch on his shoulder and found himself looking into _her_ eyes. The smell of soap was absent: the suffocating dryness of Mal invaded Jayne’s senses.

He turned his attention back to his girls, loyal and true, and waited for her to leave him in peace.


End file.
